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In Memory of William Lubtchansky

William Lubtchansky was one of the greatest cinematographers of our time, and of any time. He shot films for Jean-Luc Godard, Jacques Rivette, Agnès Varda, Danièle Huillet and Jean-Marie Straub, François Truffaut, Claude Lanzmann, Philippe Garrel, and many others. Among his many accomplishments was helping to “romanticize” the work of Godard and Rivette: he assisted them both in transitioning into their later, lusher styles.

This is an all-female-cast Jacobean pirate revenge tragedy. Yes. It’s really a shame Rivette’s work isn’t better known in the US, or more available, as he’s one of the best directors of all time. (Lubtchansky enabled Rivette to move from 16mm to 35, bringing him into a long later phase that dominated the second half of his career.)

At the moment, this is probably my favorite Godard film. It’s unlike anything else ever made. It’s also the beginning of his lusher, later style (as you can clearly see if you compare it to his more video-based, post-Dziga Vertov films above.)

Part of what’s interesting in looking at a cinematographer’s filmography, rather than a director’s, is that it can lead to insights in changes in style. Lubtchansky shot Rivette’s films in 35mm, leading to a radical change in the look and style of that man’s work. (It’s like seeing Rivette’s signature themes and ideas being arranged from one set of instruments to another.) Starting with this film, Lubtchansky begins doing something similar with Godard, while still retaining the plasticity that Godard had gained from his 1970s video work.

We often tend to think of “Rivette’s style” and “Godard’s style”—and Rivette and Godard were of course instrumental in developing auteur theory, when they wrote for Cahiers du cinéma—but Lubtchansky was an essential collaborator of both directors, a key part of an ongoing synthesis. For instance, one of the defining visual elements of Godard’s 80s work is the use of natural light, and heavy back-lighting. Whose idea was that? Was it Lubtchansky’s? What’s more, Lubtchansky’s assistant Christophe Pollock went on to develop this style, employing it in numerous 1990s and 2000s films (including films for Godard and Rivette).

Lubtchansky may have been as important to 1970s and 80s French cinema as Gordon Willis was to 1970s US cinema.

Given Rivette’s dual fascination with women and history, it was only a matter of time before he got to Jeanne d’Arc. Obviously, Lubtchansky’s vast expertise with other, more commercial projects was instrumental in enabling Rivette to even attempt this film.

And yet at the same time, Lubtchansky was able to switch from one style to another. Here an elsewhere in his collaborations with Huillet and Straub, he does nothing to detract from their preferred “flat,” Marxist style.

This clip doesn’t have any English subtitles, hélas, but the film’s remarkable style and energy are still apparent. I find this one of the best scenes in the film (which I encourage you to track down any way you can). It’s too bad this one isn’t more readily available, as it’s one of the best places to start watching Huillet and Straub, two very overlooked but extremely important filmmakers. This one’s an adaptation of Elio Vittorini’s Conversations in Sicily.

A sequel of sorts to many earlier Rivette films: Le Pont du Nord (1981), which has a Marie and Julien—but also Céline and Julie Go Boating (1974), Noroît (1976), and Duelle (une quarantaine) (1976). …Lubtchansky shot that last one, but sadly I can’t find any clips from it—I guess a film starring both Juliet BertoandBulle Ogier is too much for the internet to handle. Like Noroît, it’s a truly amazing film—a fantasy noir directly inspired by The Seventh Victim (1943)! Some things are simply too cool for us mortals to possess. You can read more about it all here and here. And here.

This is a fine place to mention that Lubtchansky shot three of the four films that Juliet Berto directed: Neige (1981), Cap Canaille (1983), and Havre (1986). Sadly, I’ve not seen any of them.

This was one of the last films of Gérard Depardieu’s son, Guillaume. He’s magnificent in it (as is Jeanne Balibar—but that goes without saying). The film is an adaptation of a Balzac novel. (Balzac is never far from Rivette’s work.)

You have a much better memory than I do. Especially when it comes to all things Kinky.

One begins imagining a conversation between Lubtchansky and Pedro Costa about rock music… While Godard sits in the background, editing in fragments of Hindemith… Chiming in under his breath about how he knew the Rolling Stones…